This city belongs to ghosts, to murderers, to sleepwalkers. Where are you, in what bed, in what dream? - Marguerite Yourcenar

Il n'est pas difficile de nourrir des pensées admirables lorsque les étoiles sont présentes.

The written word has taught me to listen to the human voice, much as the great unchanging statues have taught me to appreciate bodily motions. On the other hand, but more slowly, life has thrown light for me on the meaning of books.

I will not fall. I have reached the center. I listen to the striking of who knows what divine clock through the thin carnal wall of a life full of blood, of shudderings, and of breathings. I am near the mysterious kernel of things as one is sometimes near a heart at night.